


Tom’s Diner

by CinnCity



Category: Voltron - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21889537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinnCity/pseuds/CinnCity
Summary: Lance and Keith got in a big fight, so Hunk and Pidge are helping Lance figure things out. So Lance starts at the beginning and tells them the whole story of how they met, how they fell in love, and how they fell apart. Hopefully everything will work out in their favor.
Relationships: Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron), Klance - Relationship
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic! The title come's from Susanne Vega's song of the same name. Helpful feedback is always welcome! Also thanks to my friend for really helping me with the story so far! I hope you enjoy!

Within a small college dorm lays a young man with red, puffy eyes. He stares up at the ceiling above his bed, pulling at a single piece of curly brown hair in front of his eyes. Without warning, a light rap is heard from the other side of the door.

“Lance, dude, you’ve been in there all day. You have to come out, at least to eat.”

Lance flops over onto his stomach. “Go away, Hunk. I’m not hungry.”

“I don’t care if you’re hungry or not. I made your mother’s empanadas and if you don’t come out to eat them, I’m feeding them all to Pidge.”

The door slams open, causing the large man to take a step back.

Lance flashes a pointed glare at his room mate. “I’m only out for the empanadas. I am not talking about anything else.”

As the two walk into the living room of their shared dorm, Lance spots the child-like figure of their neighbor. He glares tiredly at them sitting on the couch, and turns back to Hunk.

“I didn’t realize the gremlin was actually here.”

“Good to see you too, Lance,” they say back. They turn around on the couch, leaning on the top to look at the two in the kitchen. “So I heard you had an issue recently.”

Lance puts himself into an island chair. “It wasn’t an issue, per se. It was maybe more of, let’s say, a small argument. Nothing major. And I said I’m not talking about it.”

Hunk and Pidge make eye contact, then look back at Lance, who rests his head on the island counter.

“I don’t think it was just a ‘small argument’. Keith and you haven’t talked for two days, and neither of you will talk to us either! You know we’re sick of all this fighting and feel it would be best if you two would just make up already..” Pidge stands up and walks away and into the kitchen, following the scent coming from the oven.

“What Pidge means to say is that you can’t just bottle all this up. You should really talk about it. Otherwise you’re going to boil over in a few days and there’s not enough empanadas in the world to help you with that.” Hunk claps the other boy on the back before going to take the empanadas out of the oven, Lance follows behind him.

“Maybe I’d feel better if the two of you just stopped harassing me.”

Lance immediately felt guilty for snapping at them, but he didn’t take it back. The three of them sat in silence. Hunk sets the empanadas down before leaning against the counter. Lance begins to reach for the food, reminding him of home.

Hunk smacks his hand away before adding “You can’t have one until you at least tell us why you won’t talk to us about it. It’s not like you to stay silent, and we care about you. We just want to help you. Pidge, help me out.”

The brunette looks up, mouth filled with bready goodness, and adjusts their glasses. They shift their eyes back and forth between the boys, swallowing. “I, uh, yeah, dude, we care about you. Not just about the food that Hunk made for you. Nope. Plus we’re tired of hearing you complain about it all the time. We want you back to your normal Lance-y self, all happy and upbeat and all that garbage.”

Lance shrinks into himself. “FINE. Fine. I’m upset because it’s my fault.”

“Hun, you’re gonna have to speak up if you want empanadas,” Hunk says kindly, shaking a spatula holding one of the golden items.

“I’m upset because it’s my fault!” The boy huffs, then sets his head in his hands. “I’m the one everyone should be upset at but you guys are here, comforting me. Go check on Keith. He’s in worse shape than me. I should just be here alone.”

Lance begins to rise from his seat before the large Samoan before him pushes him back by his shoulder.

“Okay, that’s not very… informative” Pidge adjusts their glasses, looking back at the boy who’s about to cry. “Look, I was just joking earlier. I’m not just here for the empanadas or because we are tired of your complaining. I’m here because I care about you, we care about you. Now tell us what happened so we can figure out for ourselves who’s to blame. I don’t trust this sad quiet Lance, it’s not… you.”

“If I tell you this story, you both are going to hate me. But fine, fine. Only because of empanadas” He wipes a tear from his cheek.

Hunk finally takes a seat next to him, replying with “We’ll never hate you Lance, never.”

“Then I guess I should start from the beginning.”


	2. Chapter 2

As Lance was sprinting to work in Little Italy, Coran and Allura’s place on Mott, he ran into this tall guy on the sidewalk who tried to stop him. He said something about how his motorcycle was broken down and he needed a few bucks. 

“Sorry buddy, I’m already late.” Lance barely paused next to the guy, hurrying off down the street. 

“Scumbag!” the man called out to him. 

Lance turned around, walking backwards now. 

He shrugged his shoulders and yelled back “This is New York, mullet. I’m not sure what you were expecting.”

As Lance ran on, he heard from the guy a huff and a “It's not a mullet.”

Lance soon got to the restaurant known simply as “Altea’s.” As soon as he stepped into the back entrance, his earlier transaction already out of mind, he tied on his apron and got to work. 

_ The more work I get done, the quicker the 6-12 shift will be over,  _ Lance thought to himself. So he began waiting tables. 

The restaurant was slightly below average in size for a New York City restaurant, but yet they still seemed to drum up more business than any other trattoria on this street. A constant in and out of customers, the quick turnaround, the out and in of food and plates. Altea’s was one of the most fast paced restaurants this boy has ever worked at, and he loved it. 

When Lance was finally able to take his break at about 8:30 pm, after the rush began to slow down, Allura walked into the kitchen. Her head was held high, white hair billowing behind her like a cape, acting as if she was the boss of the place, except she really was. 

“Lonce,” she said in her heavy English accent, “I have very important guests coming tonight at 9 I need you to wait. Two of my very close friends from college are moving to the city before they get married. They need to have a most wonderful welcome to our beautiful town, and especially my own little restaurant here. So everything is on the house for them. And make sure they get everything they ask for. And be polite. Please.”

“‘Llura, you make it sound like I’m going to be such a burden on these people. I’ll wait the tables and be prim and proper for you. Anything you command, princess.” Lance bows at the lady jokingly. 

“For once, Lonce, I just need this to go right. I haven’t seen them in years and I just want people from back home to see that I’m making a name for myself here. So don’t. Screw. Around,” She emphasizes each word with a jab of a finger to Lance’s shoulder. “I believe in you! You’ll do great!” 

Allura leaves Lance to the rest of his short break.

“Oh yea, totally not stressed about this at all now. Thanks ‘Llura. Best boss ever,” he whispers under his breath. Lance has no clue how he’s going to get through these next few hours without blowing a fuse. 

_ Get yourself together, Lance.  _

He jets back into the dining area, back to his job and back to the rush of people coming and going.


End file.
